


Oh What A Day

by the_bumbly_bee



Series: My Heart's On Fire, I've Fallen In Love With You [1]
Category: The End Of The Fucking World (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Character Study, F/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 16:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bumbly_bee/pseuds/the_bumbly_bee
Summary: She reckons that if they just hold on until the end, they'd be able to start over again - or at least do it better than the first time round.He's just glad that he gets to see her (and the letters aren't too bad either).





	Oh What A Day

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the show six times (yes, all the way through) this started to form, but I didn't start writing until I saw that photo of James and Alyssa on the beach after he got shot.
> 
> Enjoy f***ers.

**_Alyssa I_ **   
  
The station isn't small by any means, but the lobby sure does make the place  _ feel  _ like less of a building and more like a boa constrictor.

 

I have a habit of fidgeting when I'm nervous. My leg's shaking up and down like crazy, the tap-tap-tapping of my heel echoing around the room - it’s sort of unnerving if you ask me. Everything about this place is unnerving.   
  
Personally, I think it’s the boring, bland wallpaper that makes everything look smaller and closer than they actually are, and the big puke-coloured overgrown plant thing that apparently passes as a nice bit of decoration near the front entrance, and the weird creepy portrait of who I assume is like, the police commissioner, or whatever, that's hanging slightly off centre behind the front desk. But then I also think it might be because it’s a police station and the police scare me.   
  
(Not that I'd ever admit that out loud.)   
  
But anyway. Considering all that's happened, things are looking pretty okay.

 

The world's still f***ing bleak - it never won't be. 

 

But my small piece of it is doing okay, despite the fact that it’s only hanging on by a very thin thread held together by my sheer force of will and detective Noon's everything else.      
  
I really have to thank her for what she did - and what she's still doing. I still sort of feel pretty bad about knocking her out that day (even if it didn't matter in the end anyway); I've tried to let her know I'm sorry, but, well. 

 

In any case, I think she knows already - I can be a good communicator without having to talk.   
  
"Alyssa?"   
  


Speak of the devil.   
  
"Hi", she says with a smile as she approaches, her boots clack-clacking on the marble floor. “How long have you been waiting?”   
  
"Hi. Not long.”

 

That's a lie; I've actually been sitting here for almost an hour - not like I had anything else to do anyway. From the way she looks at me I can tell she doesn't believe it. Oh well. It's not the first time - and it certainly won't be the last any time soon. 

 

“How are things?", I ask. I'm surprised that I actually mean it, and realise it's because Noon's not looking her best. She's closer now, and I can see bags under her eyes, a wrinkled forehead despite the smile, and what looks like a few coffee stains on her collar - being a detective must be so draining.   
  
"Fine, bit busy. How about you?"   
  
"I'm okay.” 

 

“That twat of your Mum's hasn't been doing anything untoward has he?” She smiles while she says this, like she's trying to make light of it. I don't know whether to be annoyed or glad that she's asking - I decide to play it cool.

 

“Not really-”

 

“‘ _ Not really _ ’?”

 

Ah, sh*t. 

 

“No I mean, like, no - he hasn't done anything. If anything he's been avoiding me more ever since the other day.” 

 

Noon was visiting me semi-regularly, supposedly to check up on me and what I was up to on behalf of social services - the bastards apparently couldn't send someone down to do their actual job, so she was given the privilege of babysitting a seventeen year old (well, eighteen now). 

 

The last time she came over straight from a crime scene where there was an accident and she got some blood on her. She said she would've changed, but it was ‘important’ to stick to social services’ time table. Tony nearly had a heart attack when he opened the door, her standing all bloodied up and angry looking. I thought it was pretty funny.

 

“Yeah, gave him a bit of a fright didn't I?”

 

I smile. 

 

“So, uh, can we go see him now?”

 

I try not to sound too impatient.    
  
"Of course”, and I swear she smiles as if she'd been waiting for me to say it already, “let me grab my keys, I'll meet you out the front."   
  
So I wait out front. I pretty much know almost every detail about her car now; the model, the plate, the sound of its' engine, the buttons for the stations for the music. It's amazing the things you can get used to.   
  
Like, for example, catching a lift from the detective you knocked out to go see your boyfriend who they shot and who survived and who was currently in prison serving a sentence that, frankly, is a load of bollocks.    
  
In the end, James got twenty years jail time, with parole, and a deal that basically meant he could walk free-ish after a decade or so depending on whether or not he showed "good behaviour". Whatever that means.    
  
I still think they should've given us a medal - or at least, like, a certificate or something that showed we'd actually done the world a proper favour when we killed that stupid professor in his stupid house. Instead, they gave me back over to Mum and her prick husband, and James a hole in his stomach. I won't ever forgive them for any of it.   
  
But anyway.    
  
Thanks to Noon I got to visit him pretty soon after he got locked away. At least, as soon as I could've; I had to wait until I turned eighteen myself because Mum didn't want me to go see him, so I waited, and then I left (again) with Noon, who said to give her a call when I was ready to go see James (and I was ready the moment I knew he was alright in that  _ bloody _ hospital, but, well).   
  
Speaking of turning eighteen, I think it was actually a good thing I didn't go and see James straight away, because I still had to get him a birthday present and I couldn't've done that without going back to Mums so I could steal some money from Tony. He looked properly  _ pissed _ when I walked up the driveway with Noon all those months ago, like he knew I was back to make his life hell (which, admittedly, I do actively try to). He and I both know how we feel about each other; I hate him, he hates me, and Mum doesn't like either of us - though I'm not sure  _ he _ knows that. It's weird how you can love someone but not like them. I guess that's what happens sometimes - like with Mum and Leslie, and with me and Mum.

 

I'm glad that won't ever happen with me and James.    
  
I haven't told Noon anything else about Tony other than that he’s a total moron and deserves to get mugged or something. But she kept him out of arms length from me and Mum that first day back. She even told him to basically get lost in his own house while she checked the rooms and stuff.   
  
"They couldn't send someone from social services down, so I have to do this bit", she said. She had a clipboard with a bunch of boxes to tick, and I'm pretty sure she'd already filled it all out before we even got to the second storey.    
  


She had a bit of a chat with my Mum afterwards - probably telling her to, I don't know, be a better parent or something.   
  
And then after that she'd asked me, "Are you going to be alright here, Alyssa?"   
  
We were outside, her in the car and me on the pavement. I remember feeling Tony's eyes on me from inside the house.   
  
I stared at her hard.   
  
See, most adults don't actually care about anything other than what job they have, or what they're going to eat for dinner, or what time they have to pick up their twat kids, or what movie would be good to fall asleep to. All that boring, comfortable stuff that made me want to leave in the first place. What was it James had said? They had money, so they felt secure, or safe, or something like that; I wonder if all comfortable people happen to be somewhat well off. I don't think they're all idiots like Tony, but most of them are, for sure. Sometimes having too much money can make a person less of a person.   
  
But then there's people like detective Noon. She's an adult, sure, but she's like, different somehow. She's definitely not different like Leslie is - Leslie’s just a dickhead who thinks adulthood is about 'fighting the system' by getting high and doing whatever he wants without caring how it might hurt other people. He's just an idiot. 

 

With Noon, it's like she doesn't really  _ want _ to fit in with people her age in the first place. She's literally the only person who's tried to help me and James - and I mean  _ really _ help.

 

It was her who got James' twenty-five-to-life sentence changed, even though her partner - who's kind of a heartless ass - made it  _ really _ clear that she wouldn't help her if she tried to help  _ us _ (I'm like ninety percent sure she was part of the reason why the whole thing took so long to get sorted, but I don't say anything about it because I think it just upsets Noon). 

 

And it was her who took me to social services and stayed by my side the whole time they were saying stupid things like 'we understand you've been through a difficult time’ and 'we’re here to give you the best possible care’ and 'we’ve decided we'll be sending you back to your Mum's’ (by the way, only one of those were true).

 

And it was her who brought me and the damn clipboard back to my house, and stood between me and Mum and Tony, and went through the whole house to tick the damn boxes even though I know she knew she could’ve done it from the front yard - so I think I'm right when I say that Noon is different, and she's different because unlike any of the other self-absorbed twats that supposedly run the world, she cares. 

 

She actually f***ing cares. 

 

I think she's a good person. 

 

I think she just  _ gets _ it.    
  
So when she asked me all those months ago if I was going to be alright living at Mum's, I gave her a smile, said, "Yeah. Probably. Thanks”, and then stood there and watched until her car rounded the street.   
  
"Alyssa!"   
  
I jump at the sound of the horn, look around, and realize Noon’s car is already in front of me.

  
"Sorry", I say as I climb in and click my belt in place - and I swear she  _ smiles  _ when I do.

 

In the really early days that we visited James, she didn't start the car until I'd put my seatbelt on - and I didn't put my seatbelt on until she gave me a long look and I remembered that I was in a police car with a policewoman who kind of obeyed laws and stuff. I wasn't  _ too  _ embarrassed.

 

“Lost in thought?”, she chirps. 

 

“Yeah, just thinking.”   
  
She nods, as if she understands what I mean, "Ready?"   
  


I haven't seen James in weeks now, what with things getting a bit hectic with the house and Mum and the twins and douchebag Tony and everything else. I sent him a letter a week ago but I haven't gotten anything back so I'm don't know if he's even gotten it yet - I'm not so sure prisoners get top priority when it comes to mail, no matter what Noon says. 

 

I really miss him. 

 

So when she asks me if I'm ready, I stare at her hard.   
  
"Yeah. I'm ready." 

  
And then we’re off.  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thanks! I hate first person but I want to stay true to the spirit of the show. Hopefully more to come soon (unless trial exams kill me lol)


End file.
